Travelling By Ambulance
by uponagraydawn
Summary: Even the right decision can have detrimental consequences.
1. Chapter 1

**don't mind me, just writing another alive!tadashi au fic to cope with my feelings.**

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><p>"<em>Tadashi<em>!"

There was the distant sound of something crackling, crumbling, collapsing. He coughed again.

"TADASHI!"

The screams were becoming hoarser and hoarser as they tore from a throat constantly breathing in acrid smoke and ash. His ears rung with a high-pitched squeal that had been there since he picked himself up from the brick walkway. It was so loud it almost drowned out the roar of the blaze and the blood singing in his head, but not quite. His vision blurred, smearing shades of red and orange. If he'd been thinking clearly, he would've realized that these things probably added up to a head injury, but he wasn't thinking about anything except whether or not to dive into that building.

So despite his better judgment, he moved closer to the flames lapping up the school and everything inside. They reflected brightly in his wide, wet eyes and he cursed himself for doing nothing but watching them. Ash drifted down from the sky like snowflakes, settled in his hair and on his shoulders. He'd been standing there for so long he must've been covered with it at that point.

"Ta—dashi!" His brother's name came out as a series of coughs, rough and raw and desperate even though his voice was weak from damaged lungs. If he'd been any more in his right mind, he might've moved away from the billowing smoke, but he couldn't risk missing any figures that might appear through the blaze.

Any moment now, he'd see Tadashi materialize from the heat and haze and they could go home.

But it already felt like an eternity had passed and the doorway was burning. Soon it would be consumed entirely, and no one had come out of it yet. Nausea rose in his throat again, clogging it along with the smoke, and he had to double over to gag. He was shaking and retching and weeping and there were so many reasons why.

Another type of squealing pierced through the ringing in his ears, this one much more familiar. He distantly recognized it as the wail of a siren. Probably several of them. Good.

Good.

They would get Tadashi out of there. They _had _to get Tadashi out of there.

He tried to turn and run to the firefighters to scream that his brother was still in there, _you have to get him out right now_—

But when he looked down, he realized he'd dropped to his knees and couldn't make his legs move. His eyes were stinging viciously with fumes and heat and tears were cascading down his cheeks and his legs were rubber and he felt so sick. So small.

So abandoned.

His brother was burning.

"Hiro!"

The sound of his name was distant and muffled. Answering it didn't occur to him. He just stared at the fire, wondering if it might take him too.

_Tadashi, no!_

He told him not to do it. He _told _him not to go in there.

_Someone has to help! _

_Why does it have to be you? _Why did he always want to play the hero? It had always gotten on Hiro's nerves. Why couldn't he have listened? He was usually a good listener. But…

But all Hiro could see was his back as he disappeared into the inferno.

Leaving him.

A sob hitched in his aching throat. His fingers closed around the brim of the baseball cap and he clutched it to his chest tightly.

"Hiro! Oh my God!"

The voice was much closer this time. Suddenly a pair of familiar arms encircled him, and the physical contact was what finally broke through the fog in his head. He leaned into his aunt's shoulder and sobbed and sobbed and sobbed. Her fingers combed through his hair and wiped the soot from his face and she kept asking if he was okay, but he couldn't respond. He was choking, gagging, fighting back bile. Not okay at all.

"Where's Tadashi?" Cass whispered, though her voice made it clear enough that she had already guessed the answer and was desperately hoping she was wrong. "Hiro? Where's Tadashi? What happened?"

And then he couldn't fight it any longer. He pushed himself away from her and emptied the contents of his stomach onto the ground. Cass yelled for the paramedics, keeping one hand on his back and the other on his head to hold back his hair.

When he was done, he sucked in a painful, rasping breath. "Tadashi—Tadashi ran in t'help Callaghan," he slurred. "I told 'im not to, Aunt Cass, I told him—!" He couldn't finish before voice disappeared into a bout of half-coughing and half-sobbing.

His brother was burning.

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><p>Cass closed her eyes as the sharp pressure of tears built up behind them. Of course Tadashi had gone into help; what else could be expected of him? Why else would Hiro be reduced to such a mess? She'd known from the minute she'd seen him crumpled in front of the burning school what had happened, but, God, she never would've been so glad to be mistaken. Her throat was tight and swollen, but she didn't let herself cry openly. Not yet. Not until she knew for sure she had a reason to.<p>

Not until she was hidden from Hiro's eyes.

On the inside, she was panicking. Her mind was a whirlwind and her emotions had yet to catch up with it, and she didn't know whether to tell herself that they would all be fine or to start preparing for the worst. So she did neither.

For the moment, the only thing she did was focus on comforting Hiro as best she could. She held the small boy firmly against her shoulder as he shuddered and cried, shushing him, and rocked both of them back and forth gently. Not thinking about anything else, because she couldn't. The world careened around them in a maelstrom of barely controlled chaos as firefighters and policemen and paramedics dashed about to gain control over the panicking crowd and the raging fire. Sirens wailed, lights flashed red and blue, people shouted, TV crews herded around the barriers of the scene, and officials ran in every direction barking orders at the onlookers. Cass and Hiro were the only ones that stayed completely still in the midst of it all, clinging to each other like they could drown out everything else.

That was how the paramedics found them moments later. A man gently pried Hiro from Cass's arms and carried him to the back of an ambulance a safe distance away from the smoke. The fourteen-year-old didn't put up any fight against being prodded by strangers, which was odd. The vacancy and lack of focus in his eyes worried Cass.

It didn't come as a shock when, one brief examination later, he was pronounced mildly concussed.

"We want to take him in an ambulance and have him checked out at the hospital just to be safe," a medic told Cass detachedly. "He should be fine, but we want to make sure there isn't any lasting damage from smoke inhalation."

As if on cue, Hiro coughed again and Cass winced. Chewing at her bottom lip, she turned to the man and nodded. "Of course, I—"

"I'm not going to the hospital."

The two adults stopped, surprised by the interruption and the small, forceful voice. Both heads snapped to the boy huddled in the back of the vehicle. The dazed, listless expression was gone from his sooty features and was replaced by a look of firm resolve. And maybe a touch of anger.

Cass stepped toward him. "Hiro, sweetie, the doctors need to take a look at y—"

"I'm not going," he repeated, his chin quivering. "Not until they get Tadashi out."

The woman's heart dropped to her stomach. "Hiro, we don't know if—" a shaky inhale, "—_when_ they'll be able to do that. It might be a while and you need to rest."

Hiro crossed his arms over his chest, a stubbornness Cass was all too familiar with crossing his countenance. "I'm not leaving until they get Tadashi out."

Uncertain of what to do, Cass shot a glance at the medic. He had his hands planted on his hips, face impassive. When he caught Cass's gaze, he tipped his head back to indicate he'd like to talk to her in private.

They moved well out of Hiro's earshot before he leaned in close to speak to her. She was startled by the urgency suddenly present in his eyes. "You know one of the people still trapped in the building?"

She pursed her lips, ignoring the constriction in her chest. "Yes, my nephew—Hiro's older brother. He ran in to help after the fire started and hasn't come back out." Her eyes quickly roamed over the man's face, searching for some kind of answer there. "Do you know what's going on? Are they getting him out?"

Her heartbeat spiked painfully when the medic's carefully calm expression faltered a bit. He reached up to rub the back of his neck and said, "That's what I wanted to talk to you about. The firemen are doing all they can to get the fire put out and a team went in to retrieve the, uh, civilians still inside. Your nephew—Hiro?—doesn't seem to need any immediate treatment, so letting him stay isn't really the problem.

"…However, I'm not sure that letting him stick around to see what they pull out of there is a good idea. People are reporting an explosion from the building and it looks like a good bit of the structure has already collapsed. The chance that anybody trapped in there actually survived is…very slim. Any bodies that have been in there this long won't be in good condition, alive or not." Somewhere during the spiel, his voice had lost its cool detachedness. Now he sounded softer and even a bit sympathetic. "I'm sorry to have to tell you this, but I thought you ought to consider it before making a decision."

Cass's hands wandered up the sides of her arms. Tears pricked at her eyes, but she once again refused to let them fall. Instead, she raised her gaze to look the medic in the eye. "Thank you, but I already figured that out on my own. I'm going to stay here with him until they get my nephew out."

The man nodded as if he'd been expecting that response. "Suit yourself."

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><p>She rejoined Hiro after that, taking a seat beside him in the back of the ambulance. She wrapped an arm tightly around his shoulders and he leaned into the embrace the slightest bit.<p>

"Is he dead, Aunt Cass?"

The question was little more than a broken, defeated whisper and Cass felt her heart break again. Her fingers brushed through his dark, tousled locks of hair. "I don't know, honey. We'll have to wait and see."

But she knew they were both thinking the same thing: Tadashi was most likely dead.

Staring up at the monstrous flames engulfing the school, it was hard to believe that anyone could be alive inside them. Even from that distance, Cass could feel the searing heat radiating on her cheeks. To think that Tadashi was in the heart of it…

Despite her best efforts, moisture pooled in her eyes and spilled down her face. What was she going to do if Tadashi was gone? What was _Hiro _going to do? Tadashi often served as the glue that held their small family unit together. There were times he displayed a level of maturity that Cass wasn't sure she possessed herself, and he had a knack for keeping a calm, level head when she had a tendency to overreact. When she didn't know how to handle Hiro's attitude and irresponsibility, Tadashi knew exactly what to do. He'd been more of a parent to his younger brother than Cass ever had and probably ever would.

And she saw how much Hiro looked up to and admired him. The bond the two brothers shared was strong and deep, forged over years of adversity and sharing one another's burdens.

Cass was certain that severing that bond would be detrimental to Hiro.

Looking down at him, she wasn't entirely sure it wasn't too late. His eyes were red and dull as they stared off into space, and tears had cut clear tracks through the ash and grime on his face. His brother's hat was still clutched loosely in one small fist. In a word, Hiro already looked lost.

She wished she could say something comforting to the small boy, but any words that came to mind seemed empty and untrue. She couldn't tell him everything would be all right, because it was painfully obvious that it wouldn't be. She couldn't even assure him that they would get Tadashi out, because with every passing minute, that possibility looked grimmer and grimmer. Hope was fading quickly for both of them, and pretending otherwise would be more harmful than helpful.

So they sat in silence and watched the building burn together.

After a while, Cass noticed a small group of kids tentatively approaching them from the side. One glance and she instantly recognized them as Tadashi's school friends. They all bore the same expression of worry and fear and uncertainty as they stared at her and Hiro, probably wondering if it was all right to approach.

Cass smiled sadly at them and gestured for them to come over.

Unsurprisingly, Honey Lemon was the first to walk up and sit down beside Hiro. She reached out hesitantly and touched Hiro's hair, concern shining in wide green eyes. When the gesture was met with no protest, she continued to smooth locks away from his forehead. "Are you all right, Hiro?"

His only response was to clutch the blanket around his thin frame tighter and turn his face away into his aunt's shoulder. A few hoarse coughs shook his back.

Honey tossed a quizzical gaze to Cass, and Cass merely shook her head. "Hiro has a bit of a concussion," she explained, thinking, not for the first time, of how she still didn't know how he'd managed to hit his head. But in the midst of the chaos it didn't seem surprising. She didn't have the heart to ask him about it just yet.

GoGo cleared her throat. "Tadashi…?"

Cass cringed when she felt Hiro tense beneath her arm. The group must have already heard that their friend was still trapped inside the school. She shook her head again. "We don't know. They're still trying to get him out."

The kids sobered even more, all eight eyes simultaneously drawn to the mass of flames where they'd attended classes.

That was when the shouting broke out.

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><p>At first it was hard to tell what had brought on the sudden commotion. A horde of policemen and medics began to swarm toward the front of the building—which wasn't much of a building anymore—yelling and organizing themselves into a practiced formation for maximum efficiency, radios squawking and buzzing, sirens still screaming.<p>

Hiro immediately straightened, the blanket falling from his shoulders. Before Cass could protest, he'd hopped from the back of the ambulance and was sprinting across the asphalt towards the core of activity. He didn't get far before an officer stopped him, telling him to stay back, but he wasn't listening at all.

Because, in the flurry of people amassed by the burning structure, he caught a glimpse of a body cradled in the arms of a fireman.

A body that looked a lot like his brother.

"Tadashi!" he shouted hoarsely, the exclamation feeling like murder to his damaged throat. He struggled against the arm holding him back. "_Tadashi_!"

"Whoa, kid," the policeman said sternly. "You can't go back there. Just calm down."

Hiro squirmed and thrashed, trying to free himself from the man's hold with everything he had in him. And for a scrawny kid weakened by a concussion and smoke inhalation, he put up a fair fight. The policeman resolved to using both arms to restrain him. "That's my brother! _That's my brother_!"

"Hiro!"

Footsteps on the pavement, a gentle hand on his arm, and Hiro still didn't calm down. He couldn't tear his eyes away from the cluster of men in dirty yellow coats as they huddled in a tight circle. Even covered in their bulky gear, the urgency and intensity in their body language was unmistakable. Paramedics soon made up half of the group, crisp white uniforms stark and pristine against the grime and soot smudged over the firefighters like charcoal. Another team rushed over a gurney and an oxygen machine, both of which instantly disappeared into the mass of bodies.

Hiro squirmed, soles scraping over the asphalt in another desperate attempt to get closer to the scene. He _knew_ he'd seen a flash of black hair and a ruined blazer. "_Tadashi_!"

"Hiro, slow down!" Cass stepped in front of him, hands coming to rest somewhat forcefully on his shoulders. Her face obstructed his view and wide green eyes were suddenly filling up his vision. They looked almost as pained as Hiro felt. "Breathe."

He instinctively sucked in a breath and his irritated lungs protested in a bout of coughing. Cass's hand rubbed circles on his back until it had passed, and then she took him into her arms again.

"What's going on, Aunt Cass?" Hiro rasped once he had breath enough to do it. "Is he alive?"

Her answer was the most wonderful thing he'd ever heard in his life.

"He's alive."

The two words were a soft whisper, as if she was trying to convince herself of their truth even as she spoke them. Her arms tightened around Hiro and she buried her face in his hair, chest heaving with quick breaths. "_He's alive_."

Hiro closed his eyes. He was scared to believe it because, right up until that moment, he'd been trying to come to grips with the fact that he'd lost his brother. He'd witnessed the explosion; the blast should've killed Tadashi. But it hadn't.

It hadn't.

Not yet, anyway. There was no telling what kind of condition Tadashi was in now. What if he had to be put on life support or was brain dead or something awful like that? He could still die. It was too soon to feel relief just yet.

But at the same time, Tadashi was alive. And for now, that was enough.


	2. Chapter 2

**wowee, such a positive response to the first chapter! i'm so thrilled you guys enjoyed it, and it makes me incredibly happy to hear that so many of you are excited for the story! **

**i need to mention that i**_**do**_**have finals coming up within the next couple of weeks, as i'm sure many of you do as well, so it will probably be a while between updates. please understand. i would love to just sit and work on this story all day, but i've already pushed off too much studying to get this chapter up. so to the guest(s) that keep demanding that i update, i'd appreciate it if you kept in mind that i have a few other things to do that are more important than writing fanfiction (as much as i wish that were not true). i'll get the chapters posted as quickly as i can, i promise (: **

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><p>When Hiro opened his eyes, he saw the paramedics bending over the gurney. Or, more accurately, the boy now strapped to the gurney. He couldn't see clearly past all of the white uniforms, but his breath halted in his throat when he caught a brief glimpse of a familiar Converse sneaker under one woman's elbow. His legs twitched to run. If there hadn't been about a dozen police officers between him and his brother, he would have made a break for it. Instead he stood and stared with wide eyes, trying to get a clear view of his brother through the flurry of activity.<p>

After a few minutes of watching with no luck, a medic who'd been busy scribbling things on a clipboard broke away from the group and began walking toward them. "Cass Hamada?"

The woman's head perked up. "Yes?"

Hiro's eyes snapped eagerly to the technician, heart thrumming wildly against his ribcage. Was this it? Was she going to tell him his brother was dead? That they'd done all they could but weren't able to save him?

"We haven't determined the extent of his injuries," she began, and Hiro thought he might collapse from relief. "But he's in critical condition. As soon as he's stabilized he'll be taken to the ICU immediately."

_He's not dead. He's not dead_.

Hiro closed his eyes, repeated the words over and over again in his head, but his heartbeat didn't slow. The words _critical condition_ were ringing loudly in his ears. He tried to breathe deeply to calm his pulse, but it was hard to get air past the tight knot in his throat.

_He's not dead_.

Cass was hugging him again, probably to give herself the same kind of reassurance Hiro was looking for. When he hugged her back, he did it more for her sake than his own.

She let go after a few moments and Hiro took a small step back as she moved away to talk more with the paramedic, but made sure to stay within earshot. His eyes were once again glued to the place where Tadashi was being hovered over by medics. There were so, so many of them, and all so intently focused on what they were doing. Their urgency made Hiro's stomach churn.

Occasionally he'd catch sight of the gurney's frame or a piece of medical machinery the EMTs had set up around it, but he still couldn't see Tadashi. But the machinery was assurance enough, right? They wouldn't be using it if he wasn't alive. But they wouldn't be using it if he wasn't in desperate need of it either.

_He's not dead. He's not dead_.

The words had become a mantra playing in the back of his mind, but until he could see his brother for himself, he had a hard time taking comfort in it. His head was pounding and his throat ached and it would've been so easy to sit down on the pavement, close his eyes, and pretend that none of this was happening. The worst part was that Tadashi was the only one who could make anything better.

Why did this have to happen to him, that night of all nights? It was supposed to be a happy night, one of celebration. After weeks and weeks of scrutinizing labor and sleepless nights, Hiro had finally achieved what he'd worked so hard for. He'd done what Tadashi had been wanting him to do for so long. The pride and adoration shining in his older brother's eyes was as good a reward as the acceptance letter sitting in his pocket. Even though Hiro would never tell him, Tadashi's approval and praise meant more to him than any award or prize or letter any institute could offer. It had been a long time since Hiro had felt so elated and excited—a much better feeling than the fading rush he got from bot fighting.

And it had taken less than ten minutes for everything to turn into a nightmare. Suddenly there were ambulances and fire trucks and police cars everywhere, throwing bright shades of red and blue across the night, sirens and alarms screaming obscenely and shattering any calmness left in the vicinity. Nothing like the sound of sirens to plunge people into panic.

It was supposed to be Hiro's big night. He'd finally done something worthwhile and _this _happened. Tadashi had left him to go play hero and now he was in critical condition and could be _dying_ and it wasn't fair!

_It's not fair, it's not fair, it's not—_

Hiro opened his eyes. The asphalt was suddenly much closer than he remembered. His legs must've given out again. The world was crumbling around him and now he was too. How appropriate.

"We can have you both taken in an ambulance behind his if you want," he heard the technician offer.

With no small amount of effort, he pushed himself to his feet again. His head spun and he swayed on his feet, but he managed to tear his gaze away from the ground and focus it on the paramedic instead. It took even more effort to keep his voice from shaking when he said, "I want to go in the same ambulance."

The woman blinked at him, eyes flicking briefly to Cass before she shook her head. "Not a possibility. I'm sorry."

"Why not?" He wanted to come across as angry, but at the moment he lacked the strength to be angry. Instead he sounded exactly like what he was: a terrified, desperate little boy.

Maybe that was why sympathy seemed to suddenly melt the woman's stern features. She leaned down a bit to be at his eye level. "Your brother's not doing so well right now," she explained condescendingly, as if Hiro was a young child and couldn't figure that out on his own. "The EMTs need room to work on him. You'll get to see him soon, though. I promise."

Somehow that didn't give Hiro any kind of reassurance. His eyebrows furrowed even further and he bit down on his bottom lip to prevent tears from welling up. "Is he dying?"

The woman paused a moment and straightened. "Not if we can help it." With a brief smile that didn't quite reach her eyes, she turned away from him and began speaking to his aunt again in lower tones about what Hiro guessed was medical paperwork.

And that was the end of that conversation. He was perceptive enough to gather that she was not going to offer any more information—not to him, anyway. The fourteen-year-old was left gaping at her back, which she'd turned on him fairly sharply. He should've been angry about not receiving a straight answer and being brushed off. He should've demanded to see his brother right that second. But…

But he wasn't sure that he wanted to. Something about the look in the paramedic's eyes made him suddenly apprehensive.

_Stop being ridiculous. _

He wanted Tadashi. He just wanted to see his brother.

But there was no fight left in him at that moment to get him to Tadashi's side. He blamed it on the jackhammers drilling in his skull. Otherwise he'd raise hell until he got what he wanted.

"Hiro," came a soft call from off to his right. "Hey, Hiro."

He looked up to see his friends staring at him eagerly. When he locked eyes with them, they all beckoned intently for him to come over. Cass was still busy talking to the EMT, so he sauntered past the portable metal barriers that had been set up to where they waited.

"Did they tell you anything?" Honey asked.

"Yeah, do you know how he is?" Wasabi echoed.

The group waited with bated breath while Hiro tried to pull his thoughts together so he could give them an answer. After a long pause, he swallowed thickly past an aching throat and shook his head. "They said he's in critical condition. That's all."

Honey covered her mouth with her hands, and then reached out to pull the small boy into a tight embrace. Hiro just had time to process the sweet scent of her perfume before he felt another pair of arms around his shoulders—Fred's, he guessed. Two more quickly followed, and soon all five of them were standing in one massive group hug.

Before he could stop himself, Hiro melted into the contact. Exhaustion was working its way through his body, turning his limbs to lead, but he didn't let it take him. Not yet. He let his brother's friends—_his_ friends—support him, give him strength for the moment. It was still strange, having friends, but he certainly didn't mind. And he was actually thankful. He wasn't sure he could handle this on his own.

Right as he thought he might end up being suffocated by the bodies surrounding him, their grips loosened and everyone took a step back. Hiro inhaled the crisp night air and released it with a cough. Then, with a jolt, he realized his cheeks were damp again and he dried them with his sleeve before anyone had a chance to notice.

Hardly a second later, long, thin fingers came to rest on his shoulder and Honey's bespectacled face was smiling down at him warmly. "I'm sure he's going to be _just _fine, Hiro," she cooed.

"Yeah." Wasabi reached out a giant hand and gently ruffled Hiro's thick mop of hair. "Tadashi's one of the most stubborn people I know."

"And he talks about you, like, _all _the time," Fred added.

GoGo smirked. "I'm sure it'd take a lot more than this to make him leave you."

The words were meant to be comforting, but they sent a pang through Hiro's chest.

_"__Tadashi, no!" _

_"__Callaghan's in there. Someone _has_ to help."_

Tadashi _had _left him. Left him standing there in front of the raging fire, alone, wondering if he was ever going to see him again. Left him drowning in his own fear, struggling to breathe past his own terror. And for what? For a professor? Even if it was Robert Callaghan, it made little difference to Hiro. He knew how much Tadashi admired the man, as did everyone who was even mildly interested in robotics. He shouldn't have mattered more to Tadashi than his own little brother.

But then, Tadashi never had been one to just stand by when someone was in need. Hiro always knew it would get him in trouble one day.

Still, he couldn't help feeling like his big brother had chosen Callaghan over him.

Or maybe Hiro should've gone in with him to help, like he was trying to before the explosion knocked him out. Maybe then this wouldn't have happened.

Or maybe they would've both been killed.

He shook the thoughts from his head. It wouldn't do any good to dwell on what could have happened. The only thing that really mattered at the moment was that Tadashi was _alive_, and that felt like a miracle. Hiro couldn't deny that he was hurt by his brother's decision, but he didn't have the heart to be angry with him. Not yet. Not when he'd just come so close to losing him.

Not when he still might.

"Hey."

Hiro blinked, distantly realizing his eyelids felt like sandpaper. GoGo was staring at him, a touch of concern evident in her otherwise emotionless expression.

"You okay?" she inquired.

He rubbed at his nose with his knuckle. "Yeah."

She regarded him silently for a moment longer. Then, in one fluid motion, she grabbed the hat from his hand and pulled it firmly over his head, wiggling the brim for good measure. "Don't look so gloomy, kid. He's going to be all right."

She sounded so incredibly confident, like she already knew it was a fact. Hiro didn't feel nearly as sure, but her certainty was comforting nonetheless. He stuffed his hands in his pockets. "How do you know?"

"Woman's intuition." A pink bubble inflated before her lips and she popped it with her teeth. "Duh."

A small smile tugged at the corners of Hiro's mouth. Something about the way GoGo carried herself made him think that she was never wrong about anything. Maybe, with any luck, this would be no exception. The little bit of hope that had sparked in his chest grew just a fraction more, and he let it.

"We're here for you, Hiro," Honey said gently. "Remember that, okay?"

He'd just begun to nod when Cass called his name. Hiro turned eagerly.

"They're taking him to the hospital now," she informed. "You ready to go?"

"Yeah." He took a step forward, and then paused to shoot a questioning glance at his friends.

Wasabi gestured toward the ambulances with his head. "Go on, Hiro. Let us know when you hear any news, okay?"

The fourteen-year-old nodded. "I will." And with that, he spun on his heel and ran to his aunt's side.

* * *

><p>The ride to the hospital was quiet, but Hiro preferred it that way. His exhaustion and injuries were slowly catching up with him and he, frankly, didn't feel up to trying to make conversation with anyone. And then there was the fact that his stomach was in knots because Tadashi was in a completely different ambulance and Hiro had no idea what was going on inside it. He couldn't stop himself from wondering if he was dead yet.<p>

Every time he did, his stomach tied itself in another knot.

Occasionally he would glance over at Cass to see her with her hands in front of her mouth, fingers laced together tightly, and tears glistening in her eyes. But then she would catch Hiro looking at her, wipe the moisture away quickly and give him a smile he could easily tell was forced. He hated that she felt the need to put up some kind of front for him. And he'd always hated it when she cried. The sight of her sniveling made him want to comfort her somehow, but he just couldn't bring himself to do it. He couldn't bring himself to utter the words, "It'll be all right," because it seemed like such a lie.

In the end, he settled for reaching over and taking her hand. She looked at him in surprise when he did, but Hiro just kept his gaze on his shoes and gave her fingers a squeeze. Cass returned the gesture, and the silence resumed.

When they neared the hospital, the EMT that had been riding with them in the back informed that Hiro would be taken to the emergency room upon arrival for a follow-up examination. The concussion must've been rendering him uncharacteristically compliant, because as much as he wanted to insist that he was fine and didn't need or _want_ any more treatment, he remained silent about it. Maybe because he knew Cass would disagree with him, and he didn't want to put her through any more that night.

He seemed to have slipped back into a listless state during the drive. The ambulance came to a stop in front of the hospital and he was herded out and through the doors, and everything was a blur. He looked around for Tadashi, but Tadashi wasn't there. There were white walls, white floors, and white doors but no sign of his brother.

The examination didn't take long, and Hiro didn't really remember much of it. People poked and prodded him, asked him questions he mumbled half thought out answers to, gave him some sort of medicine, and stitched up the small gash at his temple. They removed Tadashi's hat for that part, and the only moment Hiro gave any emotional reaction at all was to snatch it back from the nurse with a scowl and hold it protectively in his lap for the rest of the checkup.

His condition must have been declared under control, because after a while Cass was finishing up paperwork and thanking the doctor and guiding Hiro out into the hallway. Neither of them said a word as they rode an elevator up a few floors and wandered through a maze of brightly lit halls until they reached a waiting room by the ICU. Cass sank into a chair with a long, weary sigh and dropped her head into her palm. Hiro sat beside her, keeping his hands in his lap and his eyes on his yellow shoelaces.

He didn't want to be there. He hated hospitals. Always had. They were so…clinical. So unfeeling. And after breathing in smoky air for so long, the hospital air tasted sharp and sterile and made Hiro's nose itch. And it was so quiet it almost hurt.

"They told me he's in surgery," Cass said suddenly. "While you were getting checked out."

Hiro's heart lurched sickeningly in his chest. His eyes snapped up to his aunt in surprise.

"That was all, though," she was quick to add, and Hiro's shoulders drooped again. She laid a hand on his knee. "But I'm sure we'll hear some news soon."

Her eyes were still teary and her face sadder than it ever ought to be, but she was smiling at him again. He tried to smile back, even if it felt pretty pathetic. There were times when his aunt's optimism annoyed him (even though he would never let her know that), but there were also times when he was actually very grateful for it. Now was definitely one of those times. Even when she was sad, she always had a warmth about her that Hiro found inexplicably comforting. He was suddenly seized by a rush of thankfulness for the fact that he had her for support.

But she wasn't always right. Fifteen long minutes of waiting stretched into thirty, and thirty slowly became an hour. Cass was constantly moving, tucking her feet under her or flipping through one of the provided magazines or getting up to stretch, but Hiro remained almost completely still. His thumb stroked steadily over the brim of Tadashi's cap, but that was the extent of his activity. Maybe it was the effects of the concussion or leftover shock, but he couldn't seem to drag himself out of what felt like a constant daze.

"It's getting pretty late," Cass commented eventually. "Maybe we should go home for a while. I'll make us some dinner and you can get cleaned up rest a little."

Hiro immediately shook his head. "You can go if you want. I'm staying here until I see Tadashi."

He knew it wasn't the answer she wanted to hear, but he couldn't fathom leaving his brother alone in this place until he at least got to see how he was doing.

His aunt released a soft breath. "Well, I'm not leaving you here by yourself, so I guess we'll both wait."

Another silence enveloped the waiting room, with only the functioning sounds of the hospital to fill the empty void of conversation. An attendant wheeled a cart down the hallway, someone coughed nearby, a distant door opened and closed. Then Hiro's phone vibrated in his pocket.

It was a text from Honey Lemon.

_Hi Hiro! We're all wondering if you've heard any news yet?_

The boy sighed deeply. He contemplated not answering since it seemed like it would expend more effort than he was willing to put in, but it probably wasn't fair to them. They'd been waiting just as long as he had.

_No. Not yet._

He crammed the phone back into his pocket and slumped down in the chair. "Do you think he's gonna be okay?" The words were out of his mouth before he could stop them.

Even without looking, he could feel Cass regarding him sympathetically. She wrapped her arm snugly around his shoulders and pressed a kiss to the top of his head. "I think he's gonna be just fine."

Hiro couldn't tell if she was only saying it for his sake or not.

* * *

><p>They waited another hour before anything happened. Hiro's exhaustion finally caught up with him and he'd slipped into a doze, head resting on his aunt's shoulder.<p>

He awoke with a start at the sound of footsteps and a stranger's voice saying, "Miss Hamada?"

There was a man standing before them in the waiting room—a doctor, Hiro guessed. He was middle-aged, thick in stature, with frameless glasses and thinning blond hair. A reassuring type of man, the kind that looked like he knew what he was doing. That didn't do anything to prevent Hiro's stomach from turning somersaults in his gut, even as he blinked sleep from his eyes.

He had hopped up from his chair in half a second, and Cass wasn't far behind. His heart was suddenly hammering so hard against his chest it was almost painful and he couldn't breathe.

"I'm Dr. Boyd," the man introduced. "I've been overseeing your nephew's operation."

Hiro could've thrown up. His hands were tingling and sweating as they wrung the baseball cap.

"Cass Hamada," his aunt returned, reaching out to shake the doctor's hand. There wasn't much cordiality in her voice, and that was how Hiro could tell she was almost as anxious as he was.

Luckily, the man seemed to know that this wasn't a time for formalities. His gaze fell to a clipboard in his hand, eyes perusing the information it held. "Well, I'm pleased to tell you that the surgery went better than expected. We might need to schedule another one in the near future, but that can be discussed later. I'm sure you're wondering about Tadashi's condition."

Hiro found himself nodding earnestly. His eyes were the size of baseballs as they stared at the man, his whole body leaning forward in eagerness.

Dr. Boyd kept his eyes on his papers. "I'll be completely honest with you—his injuries are severe and it's highly unlikely he'll ever…make a full recovery."

Something tight closed around Hiro's throat.

"As you've no doubt already gathered, he received multiple burns, many of which are of the third degree," the doctor continued. "It seems that his left side took the brunt of the damage, particularly the arm and shoulder. The nerve damage in those areas is fairly extensive, so it's uncertain whether he'll regain full use of the left arm. The left cornea was burned, which may cause vision problems. There were also burns to the neck and face, but those should heal without much complication."

He paused for a moment to lift a sheet of paper on the clipboard.

Hiro couldn't breathe. There was more news coming, he could tell. His heart was in his throat and he wanted to scream for the doctor to just _spit it out_, but he couldn't make a sound.

When the large man took a deep breath and let the paper fall, it was in slow motion. "Aside from several miscellaneous lacerations and smoke damage," he said slowly, "there is one more prominent injury, and this one concerns me the most. I was informed that when he was rescued from the building, the firemen found him trapped under a fallen beam. As far as we can tell, that beam is responsible for shattering Tadashi's pelvis, as well as a break in the lumbar region of his spinal cord. It…it appears to be a complete injury, which means that all sensory and motor functions below the break are lost."

From the corner of his eye, Hiro noticed Cass shaking her head. "You…it…he's…?" Her voice was small and tearful as she stumbled over words she wouldn't find.

The doctor found them for her. "I highly doubt he'll ever walk again. I'm sorry."


	3. Chapter 3

_Beep._

_Beep._

_Beep._

Rubber squeaked against linoleum. The line was steady in its rising and falling, as it had been for the past hour. And the hour before that.

_Beep._

_Beep._

_Beep._

His leg swung back and forth, rhythmically, like a pendulum. Nothing else. Everything else was as still as death. And if it weren't for the incessant beeping and the faint whir of all the machines, it would be just like a visitation. He tried not to think about that, though.

_Beep._

_Beep._

Because this was a hospital, not a funeral home. It was a hospital bed, not a coffin. But it could have very well been a coffin in a funeral home. That fact was definitely not lost on him. The fear that they could still end up there continued to linger at the edges of his mind, even though the doctors were confident that he would pull through.

_Beep._

_Beep._

But looking at him, Hiro wouldn't think so.

Tadashi looked like death.

His unburned skin (or the patches visible under the mess of bandages) was a shade of pale that made Hiro feel nauseous. The entire left side of his face was covered in sterile fabric, but it was safe to say that his pallor was far too gray to be anywhere near healthy. Nothing about him looked healthy. There seemed to be tubes all over the place—some finding connection with Tadashi by disappearing into the swaths of bandages on his arms and another, larger, snaking down his throat. Hiro had visibly cringed when he first saw that one. They were there to help him do simple, fundamental things, like breathe and eat. The bandages were everywhere, too. Wrapped around his head, his face, his neck, his chest, his arms and who knew where else. They did a good job of hiding the burns, at least. The actual sight of inflamed, wounded flesh would only be another blow that Hiro did not need.

Tadashi looked so small and helpless lying there. More helpless than Hiro ever thought possible. The white sheets seemed to swallow him. The doctor said he was in a coma due to smoke inhalation or the trauma to his spine or maybe something else entirely. Hiro had lost track and all the medical jargon he'd heard in the past week had become one big tangle in his head. He hadn't exactly been paying attention. All he knew was that there were a lot of things wrong with Tadashi.

Hiro was scared to touch him for fear that he would break.

He wasn't supposed to look this way. He wasn't supposed to look so weak and _vulnerable_. Hiro had never, ever imagined he'd see a day when his big brother would need help simply to _breathe_. When he was younger, in the days following the accident that killed their parents, he used to have nightmares about losing Tadashi too. He'd wake up in the dead of night sobbing so hard he'd give himself hiccups, and Tadashi would let him climb into his bed and spend the rest of the night right next to him so Hiro could feel his warmth and hear his breathing. But he never considered what it would be like if Tadashi was reduced to a state like this.

Was he really so fragile?

He'd always been so strong—invincible in Hiro's eyes. Almost like a superhero.

How stupid.

Tadashi was human just like everyone else, and it was stupid of Hiro to ever get the notion that nothing would ever happen to him. Even if he was the foundation of Hiro's entire life.

That would explain why seeing him this way hurt so much. Tadashi meant security and safety and assurance. He meant everything was okay, and if it wasn't, that it would be soon. He fixed everything. Always had, for as long as Hiro could remember. He'd always been there to bandage scraped knees and wipe runny noses and rescue him from binds and make everything better. But now that assuredness had been shaken and fractured, burned up in the fire along with Tadashi. For the first time in a long time, Hiro felt unsteady and scared and _lost_. It took a lot for his confidence to waver and, right now, he searched and found he had none at all.

Now, he watched his brother's chest rise and fall in a steady, mechanical rhythm as the machine delivered the oxygen he could not breathe sufficiently on his own. He was alive, but not by his own strength. The thought sickened Hiro.

His eyes once again wandered to the little screen nestled among a thousand wires and tubes that showed Tadashi's heartbeat. Just a little digital line on a monitor that spiked up in even increments to show that his heart was still beating.

_Beep._

_Beep._

_Beep._

The sound was reassuring and infuriating all at the same time. It was a constant every time Hiro visited. He visited a lot. Every single day, for hours on end or until they kicked him out. He'd spent the first couple of nights after Tadashi's admission in the hospital room, bedding up in his sleeping bag on the hard cushions that passed for a sofa, convinced that his brother would wake up the next day. When he didn't, Cass practically dragged Hiro home to get proper rest. But he always headed out around lunchtime to sit with his brother in hopes that, maybe, he would wake up and Hiro's face would be the first he saw. But it was coming up on a week since the fire, and he was still as unresponsive as he'd been since the first night.

Hiro once asked the doctor when he would wake up, but all he received in reply was a tight smile and the words, "It could be any day now," accompanied by a condescending pat on the shoulder. The doctors and nurses treated Hiro like a little naïve child who needed to be protected from potentially upsetting information, and he hated it. He hated the way the nurses would plaster on sweet smiles and speak to him in sugary tones, the kind people normally used with toddlers. He hated that he felt anchored to the stupid place, almost physically incapable of leaving his brother's side. But most of all, he hated the uncertainty. Because he _wasn't_ some naïve child, and he could decipher the doubts about Tadashi's condition easily enough, no matter how much they might be trying to shield from him, or how much they assured both him and Cass that his life was no longer in imminent danger.

While the rational part of him knew that was true, that the doctors didn't lie to people just to protect their emotional states, there still remained the possibility that Tadashi _wouldn't_ wake up. No one had mentioned it, of course, since everyone seemed optimistic, so it was only a suspicion festering inside Hiro's own mind. But it was a _thriving_ suspicion, and every second that passed with Tadashi's eyes remaining closed and unresponsive strengthened it.

Nothing the doctors said could put him at ease. Maybe his worst fears were running away with his thoughts, but he knew with certainty that he wouldn't—couldn't—start to feel better until Tadashi told him with his own mouth that he was okay.

So until then, he sat and stared at the invalid form that was his brother and pleaded silently with everything he had for his fears to finally be put to rest.

Wasabi, Honey, GoGo, and Fred came by often and Hiro was grateful for that. Their visits had been somber occasions at the beginning, but as the days passed and hanging out in a room with a comatose friend became a tiny bit more normal (or, at the very least, less jarring), everyone seemed to loosen up a little. They'd talk about upcoming classes and tell Hiro how much he fun he would have, even though the mere thought of going to school while Tadashi was in the hospital kind of made him want to puke. They would share food and project ideas and chat and laugh like everything was peachy. Hiro never really laughed. He'd pretend to, but no matter how hard he tried, he was never able to put his heart into it. How could he, when his brother was right in front of him being fed oxygen and nutrients necessary for his survival through tubes? Something about that didn't seem right.

He guessed that Tadashi's friends felt the same way deep down. Occasionally Hiro would catch one of them glancing at the injured boy with a look of unease and deep-seated worry and his fingers would curl stiffly into his palms. Sometimes they would invite him to join them for lunch out or some other activity in hopes of luring him from the white walls—they seemed convinced it would cheer him up to see color and be surrounded by _lively people_—but he always refused. Somehow it seemed like his duty to stay diligently positioned at Tadashi's bedside, like some sort of sentinel. The thought of leaving him alone was nearly unbearable.

The room was saturated with a heavy silence now, only perpetuated by the beeping and whirring of machines. Hiro scuffed the bottom of his shoe on the floor repeatedly, watching like it was the most fascinating thing he'd ever discovered he could do. Because he couldn't look directly at Tadashi anymore.

The first time he'd been allowed into the room, he couldn't tear his eyes from his brother. He was trapped in some sort of daze, horror holding his gaze captive even when he wanted nothing more than to look away. He hadn't expected anything less awful, of course. He'd spent the better part of the day coaching up his nerves in preparation for what he knew he would see, for everything he'd been warned about.

But there was a difference between descriptions to create mental images and actually _seeing_ it with your own eyes. Seeing involved tangibility and reality being driven home in the harshest way, like a blow to the gut. And the grotesque sight that awaited him in the hospital bed certainly left him breathless. It didn't take long for him to decide that he'd seen enough, and now he couldn't look at Tadashi for more than a few seconds at a time.

The words "lucky" and "miracle" had been floating around, tucked into conversations Cass had over the phone or murmurs passed between nurses and doctors. Hiro wasn't sure whether or not to associate them with the broken form in the bed. When he braved another glance and that irritating band around his chest tightened painfully again, he really didn't think that describing his brother as "lucky" was appropriate at all. It was a miracle that he was still alive…and, Hiro would _undoubtedly_ rather Tadashi be in this awful state but still _there_ with him than the other unfathomable outcome…but at the same time, the cost of his survival was so enormous that Hiro couldn't bring himself to call it lucky.

Hiro had purposefully not been thinking about the news he and Cass had received the night Tadashi had been admitted. But at times like these, when he was alone with his big brother in the hospital room and had nothing but his thoughts to occupy the time, it was difficult to keep it from replaying in his mind.

And after all this time, he still couldn't wrap his head around it. Couldn't grasp that his brother might never do karate or throw him over his shoulder or _stand_ ever again. That was impossible. There was no way Tadashi could just…be _broken_ like that. Even when he looked so god-awful and half dead…

Hiro's fists clenched around the edge of his seat. No. Tadashi was _strong_. He would overcome this, just as he always overcame everything.

Like that time when he was fifteen and Hiro was ten, and they'd been riding a bike together outside the café. Tadashi let Hiro pedal while he hung on behind, and since the weather was hot they had both neglected to put on shoes. Hiro had been pedaling furiously down the sidewalk, intent on picking up enough speed to clear an upcoming hill, when Tadashi suddenly let out a bizarre, half-choked yell and jerked Hiro's shoulders violently, effectively throwing their balance off and sending them both skidding across the pavement. Somehow, his older brother had managed to get his big toe caught in the wheel's spokes, which resulted a gash that almost reached bone. There was blood everywhere, and Hiro had been convinced that Tadashi was going to die. But the older boy had picked himself up off the ground and, with Hiro's help, limped back to the café while keeping a smile on his face the entire time, the only sign of pain being his labored breathing and ginger footing.

It was then that Hiro became sure that Tadashi was invincible. After the incident, he'd kept on asking if the injury hurt, and his brother always answered by saying, "Nah, it's just a scratch. I'm just glad it was me and not you."

It was like that every time Tadashi was inured. Even when he was bleeding out on a sidewalk, he seemed so unaffected. Like it only took a pinch of willpower to swallow his pain and smile instead to put everyone's minds at ease. And after fourteen years of watching Tadashi stay calm and relaxed through illnesses and broken bones and a thousand other injuries resulting from robotics experiments, how could Hiro _not_ come to the conclusion that his big brother was somehow invincible?

So now he clung to a scrap of hope that Tadashi's resilience wouldn't fail in this situation either. Once he woke up and was on the mend, everything would be right again. And maybe…maybe the doctor would be proven wrong.

Hiro hadn't mentioned a word about it to his friends, so unless Cass had mentioned it at some point when he wasn't around, they had no idea of Tadashi's paralysis.

His aunt was stressing like there was no tomorrow. She tried to hide it, but Hiro knew. She was on the phone constantly, always rifling through papers and scrolling through websites in her free time.

A few days ago when she was busy in the café, he'd snuck onto her computer to look at the web history and found searches on paraplegia and wheelchairs. Up until that point, he'd done a pretty good job of pretending Tadashi's diagnosis was a nightmare his own mind had conjured out of fear. But seeing the words Cass had typed out on the screen made something tight and cold close around his throat, and he felt the fragile wall he'd so carefully built up to protect his sanity begin to crumble away. He'd only spoken to his aunt out of pure necessity for the rest of the night.

A sudden vibration from his pocket was a welcomed distraction from the depressing thoughts swirling in his head. Unsurprisingly, it was a text from Cass telling him to head home for dinner. And as usual, Hiro felt a tug in his chest at the thought of leaving Tadashi conflicting with the urge to jump up and get out of the hospital as soon as possible.

With a weary sigh, he slowly raised his eyes to his brother's sleeping face and leaned forward. For a few seconds he chewed on his lip, trying to summon the words he wanted to say. It seemed stupid to talk to Tadashi aloud when he obviously couldn't hear him, but at the same time that was exactly why Hiro needed to speak.

"Night, Dashi," he finally muttered quietly, switching back to his brother's childhood nickname almost without thinking. "I'll be back tomorrow. Um…" He kicked his feet back and forth uncomfortably. "I…I miss you. Everyone does. So you should probably wake up soon because sitting here kinda sucks when you can't even have a conversation. And Honey Lemon's threatening to start painting your nails soon out of boredom. Not that I'd let her do that, of course." He rubbed the back of his neck and swallowed thickly. "And Aunt Cass has been crying a lot at night after I go to bed. She thinks I don't know, but I, um…haven't been sleeping that well. So, yeah, you should probably wake soon. You're always telling me not to make Aunt Cass worry and you need to take your own advice for a change."

His throat felt tight again as he stood and pushed the chair back against the wall. Then he shoved his hands into his pockets and shuffled for the door. Before he passed through the frame, however, he forced himself to slow and crane his neck to look at his brother one last time.

"I love you," he murmured, barely above a whisper. "Please be okay."

* * *

><p>Dinner passed in the same way it had for the past few days. Minimal conversation, forced smiles, Cass trying to lighten the mood and failing miserably when Hiro's only response was to prop his head on his fist and push food around his plate with his fork. He was halfway through a pile of green beans when the usual questions started.<p>

"How did he look today? Any better?"

Hiro kept his eyes on his plate and shrugged. "'Bout the same."

From the corner of his eye, he could see Cass deflate a little bit. "Did they say anything about him waking up soon? Or taking him off the respirator?"

"No."

They both knew if that had happened, Cass would probably know about it before Hiro. But her optimism never ran out, it seemed.

"I'm sorry I couldn't make it out there today," she said, looking genuinely rueful as she cut off another piece of chicken. "It's been pretty busy."

Hiro brought his cup to his mouth and took a sip of water as an excuse not to answer. A weight suddenly settled at the bottom of his gut. He knew it killed her to be away from the hospital so much, but they'd come to a silent understanding that she couldn't afford to keep it closed like she had for the first few days after the fire. Hospital bills were beginning to pile up, and they were both acutely and painfully aware that Tadashi was in for a long stay. And on top of everything that entailed, there would undoubtedly be therapy–physical for certain, and possibly even psychiatric–involved in his recovery. Then there was the medicine and equipment he would require, and Hiro had already eavesdropped on a heated conversation Cass had with the insurance company.

Their family wasn't exactly bad off, but Hiro was well aware of the financial strain this would put on Cass. She didn't ever talk to him about money, but he wasn't stupid. The heavy feeling that settled in his stomach whenever he thought about it nowadays was a new sensation. He'd never really given their financial state much thought before that week. He had food and clothes and tools for his work, so what else was there to think about? Money had always been something for Tadashi and Cass to handle. But now he was beginning to realize just how hefty a burden his aunt shouldered by herself.

If Tadashi was awake, he'd probably tell Hiro to stop wasting time in a hospital room and help her out with the cafe. Every day the voice in his head–which he guessed was his conscience, and sounded suspiciously like his brother–got louder and louder, telling him to make himself useful and ease the strain Cass was under. He'd resolved himself to deciding that if another day passed and Tadashi still hadn't improved, he would start helping out at the Lucky Cat.

The thought made him feel kind of sick.

He helped Cass clear the table and wash the dishes after dinner, a chore usually taken up by Tadashi. With only two sets of dinnerware, it didn't take long at all.

"Wanna watch a movie, Hiro?" Cass asked as she wiped her hands on a dish towel and tossed it back on the counter.

She'd asked that question a lot this week. He gave her the usual answer of, "No thanks. I'm pretty tired."

Her cheek puckered where she bit the inside of it, a little crease appearing between her eyebrows. "Oh...okay. Well, maybe tomorrow night."

"Yeah. Um, goodnight, Aunt Cass."

He took a step in the direction of the stairs, but was stopped when her arms abruptly circled around his narrow shoulders and squeezed tightly. "Goodnight, sweetie. I love you so, so much."

Hiro surprised himself by allowing a little smile to curve his lips. And, after a few seconds, he hugged her back. "I love you too."

He climbed the stairs and prepared for bed with sluggish feet and a leaden heart, and returning to an empty room did nothing to lift his spirits. It wasn't something he'd ever considered before the accident–going to bed without Tadashi there. He couldn't remember the last time that had happened. The crippling loneliness that seized him on the first night kept him awake well into early morning. The second night, he'd brought Mochi to bed with him and hugged the poor cat to his chest like a stuffed animal. It didn't help as much as he'd hoped, especially since Mochi decided after ten minutes that he didn't like being held for so long. The cat had never been too fond of Hiro, anyway.

The previous three nights had been spent lying awake, staring at the ceiling, and warring with his guilt. The fights got uglier every time, and that night was no different. Hiro was stretched out spread-eagle on top of his blankets. As usual, the silence was deep and vast utterly unbearable without Tadashi's steady breathing to fill it. So the voice certainly didn't fail to do it instead.

_You're so selfish, Hiro. _It was the exact same thing, every night.

_No, I'm not. Tadashi needs me. _He retaliated with the exact same excuse.

_He's in a coma. He doesn't _need _you._

_But...he might wake up. He'll need me then._

_But Cass needs you _now_, and you run off every day. You leave her all alone to work by herself. _

_She's okay with it. She knows I need to be with Tadashi._

_She's supporting the three of you on her own. She feeds you, clothes you, raises you, and what do you do in return?_

_I'm just being a good brother…_

_And a bad nephew. Did you even notice the disappointment in her face when you brushed her off _again_? _

_No, if she was disappointed, she...she would've said something… _

_She's too nice to say something. She must be exhausted and yet she's still reaching out to you, even when you're not doing anything to help her. You're so selfish. You're no good to anyone._

When the argument reached that point, he usually turned over to bury his face in the mattress and pull the pillow over his head. His hands fisted around the sheets.

"I have to do something," he whispered, voice thick and dulled by the bedclothes.

He couldn't stop Tadashi from running into the fire, and he hadn't been doing his part to make the situation any better. He'd given Aunt Cass the cold shoulder again and again, even when he didn't really have a good reason to.

_Tadashi would be so disappointed. _

That thought was like a kick in the gut. Before he knew it, Hiro was propelling himself off the bed and his bare feet were slapping against the hardwood as hemade for the stairs. It was only 12:15. Maybe she hadn't gone to bed yet.

When he reached the top of the stairs, a soft yellow glow on the wall confirmed it. He eased himself down the steps with one hand on the railing.

And then he froze.

Because he could hear quiet, gentle sobbing wafting up from the kitchen.

It definitely wasn't the first time this scenario had played out, but Hiro's heart broke all over again. He _hated_ listening to Cass cry. Tadashi was the same way. Something about it just struck him as cruel and unjust, like the thought of leaving a kitten out in the rain. This time, though, it was multiplied tenfold by the cold ball of guilt sitting heavy in Hiro's stomach. It had become something nearly palpable and he didn't know how much longer he could stand it.

His sweaty fingers curled on the railing and he sunk onto the steps, feeling the pressure of tears building behind his own eyes.

_She's crying because of you_, the voice accused loudly. _No half-hearted apology can fix this. You really screwed up, bonehead._

* * *

><p><strong>Whew, sorry this took so long. Got caught up in the holidays.<strong>

**So, I have a couple things I need to say about this fic. The most important is that I am writing this story mostly for self-indulgence, and sharing it because people seemed to like the AU. I'll be the first to admit that I'm embarrassingly clueless about the medical field (or most of it). One reason this chapter took longer was because I had to do a _lot_ of research. That being said, I KNOW there are going to be parts to this story that are inaccurate. Because, frankly, I can't dedicate the amount of time and research needed to make sure _everything_ is factual. I'll do my best to make it realistic, but please _please_ don't expect everything to be spot on. I can tell you right now that it won't be (but rest assured I'm definitely not going to slack off and start making stuff up). **

**If I make any glaring errors and you want to point them out, go ahead. But I just want to put out a disclaimer that I am by no means well educated in the medical field. If this was some original story I was publishing for monetary gain, I would most certainly put in the effort to make it as accurate as possible. But it is only a fanfic, and BH6 and its characters belong to Disney. I gain nothing from this but writing experience and emotional turmoil. And, like I said, this story is almost entirely for self-indulgence, because I love me some good hurt/comfort. **

**I'd like to give a HUGE shoutout to amandabeep/murphystarr on Tumblr and their mom for helping me out with a lot of medical stuff for the story. Seriously, I don't know what I'd have done without you, so thanks again so much 3**

**And thank all of you for reading! I feel like I vomited up this chapter so I hope it doesn't suck too much. **


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